Numb
by Ruby Fire Fox
Summary: Tormented by questions, silently and unknowingly destroying his sanity, Raphael longs to be happy. Meanwhile, Donny is facing a few problems of his own, and finds his own happiness in an unlikely place...
1. What's Wrong With Raphael?

_I do not own anything but my future character Brandy. Yep. That's about it. So I don't want any lawyers beating my door down because all they'll get outta me is about $8 and a picture of my baby cousin. _

_Anyway, just to let y'all know, this is my first attempt at NT fanfiction. Never ever done it. Nope. So be nice please. The set-up is rather typical, but the storyline becomes much more interesting and original. BELIEVE ME!! Happy reading!_

New York, during the rush of all-night partiers and starry-eyed dreamers, is a questionably exciting place to be. Lights from every building craft a fantasy mirage of life. For the most part, New York is the origin of the American Dream; anyone can be whatever they want to be. America is the land of opportunity, and New York was somehow branded the "essence" of the common dreamer. People from all over want to go to New York and live there; they all want to experience the excitement of the night life, the buzz of the unstopping flow of chattering people in the streets, and the simplicity of a small little life of their own in a city that never sleeps.

All, that is, but Raphael.

Raph wandered the laid-out dirt trails of Central Park, keeping to the shadows as his sensei had always taught him. Notwithstanding his deep, passionate hatred for the life of secrecy and caution, there was a mental restriction -- a form of subconscious respect for the rat -- that kept him following the rules. Although Raph was the one never to be tied down, always a free spirit, (and an angry one at that,) he couldn't deny the love and regard he had for Splinter. To sum it all up, it was just a strangely successful father-son relationship.

Deep in thought, Raph passed by a bench pulled off to the side under the protection of trees. He found that the denizen of the bench was a pitiful looking bum. His tattered, weathered coat was pulled tightly around him, and a bag full of his collection of beer bottles and soda cans sat within arm's reach. 'No wonder Central Park hardly has any litter,' Raph thought to himself, chuckling at the thought. Raph regarded the bum with almost an admiration; he didn't have much, but he had a life of his own. Perhaps it was a hard, struggling and unsuccessful life, but it was a free life.

At this point, Raph's desire to become a human and talk with this old man became strong. 

Raph kept walking, dismissing from his thoughts the sounds of light snoring and crumpled newspapers shifting under the weight of the bum's head. His eyes narrowed in hurt and anger. Nearby, an innocent rock, happening to have been sitting in Raph's path, didn't stay where it was. Into the unknown it went, crossing the dirt path and flying out into the wide stretch of grass to hit a tree somewhere. 'Maybe I underestimated the size of that thing,' Raph thought, acknowledging the pain in his foot. 

Raph tugged his fedora to shade his eyes and pulled his trench coat tighter around him, folding the collar further up to better secrete his face. He found it reasonable to hate the constant need to hide his true self, but decided against getting worked up over it now; he had far too much on his mind already. 

"Being a turtle bites ass," Raph grumbled out loud. He felt passionate about his opinion, but at the same time, felt an almost instinctive appreciation for the life of a turtle. He supposed it wasn't being a turtle that sucked, it was more the idea of being a mutant turtle.

'That sure leaves a bad taste in my mouth,' Raph thought bitterly. '"Mutant" turtle. Sounds like some sort of monster or freak or something.' His memories traced back to the time he and Casey Jones first met. When Casey had called him a freak, the truth of what he really was manifested into an emotional realization that Casey was probably right. Raphael, as well as his three brothers, were freaks. He felt so ashamed. 

"Damn!" Raph cursed the ground, making sure to keep his volume fairly low despite his need to scream at the world. His anger, pain, stress and questions all fused together in a large knot, gathering up in the back of his mind and threatening to release. Raph had kept it inside him for too long, constantly hiding away from his brothers and going for walks, hardly even talking to himself about it. He was becoming dangerous, and he knew it. One spark would set off a sky-full of illegal fireworks.

Shuffling came from behind, and when Raph turned to see what, all that greeted him was a blur of dark shadows gathering around him and attacking him from some random direction. Before he knew it, he was on the ground and staring up at the blade of a knife. 

"Give us all you got, and we won't cut your throat!" a single voice broke out. Raph rolled his eyes. He had heard crap along that line in too many movies, and from too many idiots trying to play "intimidator" with crap along that line. 

"Look, kid, I've got loads on my mind right now. If you just get up and skip merrily away, I won't take my anger out on you, deal?" Raph very well knew he was provoking the guy on top of him, and truthfully that was what he wanted. He knew the kid wouldn't kill him; he could see the guy didn't have the guts to. For all Raph knew, that knife could've been made of rubber. Not to mention he needed to have good old-fashioned fight with a few people.

"Shut up! You're messing with the wrong crowd," the guy sneered. Raph rolled his eyes again at the emphasis the guy made on the words "the wrong crowd." 

"So that's what you think you are, eh? 'The wrong crowd?' The bad-ass tough guys, eh? 'Oooh nobody mess with us 'cause we're the bad-ass "wrong crowd!"'" Raph's thick Brooklyn accent roared over Central Park, stirring the silence and echoing through the trees. His mocking was turning into his release from all of the stress and frustration from earlier. He shoved the guy off of him and stood up, immediately in his face and blowing off major steam. "Is that all you want in life!? Is to live a life where you feel like 'you've got da powa?' Huh!? Oooh everybody's scared of you, eh!? Right, punk!?" At that moment, all hell broke loose and Raph was indestructible.

Raph threw a too-long-restrained punch into the bewildered kid's jaw. He flew back in more shock than pain, hitting the dirt with, to Raph, a satisfying thump. At that moment, he knew he had let off a chain reaction. From every side came the blurred motions of defensive kids avenging their "leader," which only gave Raph the cue to pull out the big guns.

Out came Raph's sai, and with the sai came blocks, swings, jabs and slices that disoriented the gang members terribly. Raph threw a left-footed kick at one guy, then immediately slammed a dizzying roundhouse to attack a guy coming from the right. It almost (ALMOST) surprised Raph when he saw one of them emerge with a sword. When the blade came down on him to strike him, Raph caught the blade by throwing both sai in front of him and hooking it with the deadly prongs. With a quick twist and spin, the blade flew from the guy's hands, and, quickly turning his sai so the butt end pointed outward, Raph threw a punch and rendered the kid unconscious. 

This was too much for the rest of the guys. All quickly fled from the scene, leaving their unconscious teammate where he was. Raph chuckled mockingly. 'They didn't put up much of a fight, did they?' With a sigh of relief from some of his angry energy being burned away, he returned his sai to their original location on his belt and continued walking again. Checking his watch, he decided to head home and dug his hands deep into his pockets.

"Mikey, pass a slice!" called Leonardo, making no effort to move himself from his comfy position on the couch. In front of him was the TV, and on the TV was a very close-in-score football game. "The 49ers are behind four points, dude! You're gonna loose this one!"

Michelangelo snorted. "Yeah right, dude! The 49ers always get revenge! You'll be the one buying ME pork rinds, my blue-masked buddy!" He tossed Leo a slice of pepperoni.

"As if, Mikey. For the past two games you've lost! Pull out your pocket money and stand by the door. You'll be headin' out anyway to buy ME pork rinds!"

"Shut up, Leo!"

In the distance, the faint sound of rapping on a keyboard was heard. Mikey and Leo turned in the same direction to see Donatello, the "genius" of the four turtles, on the Internet. 

"What're ya doin', Donny?" Mikey asked, slapping a paper plate of pepperoni in front of Donny and eying the computer like he knew what he was looking at. Which, in fact, he only knew much of when he was visiting game sites. 

"Checking the odds of you winning with the 49ers," Donny began. "From the records I've found, they got a new couch, so their performance has been unreliable and uncharacteristically substandard for their reputation." 

Mikey looked at him with a dull look, the type a student often gives a teacher when they're pretending to be listening. "Uh huh," Mikey replied hesitantly. "So what does all that malarkey mean?" 

"It means, my dear, dear brother, I am afraid the odds are against you and Leo will be munching the pork rinds." 

"Aw the Internet knows squat! Just you wait, you guys. Those babes in the short skirts will be doin' those flip thingies over the victory of the 49ers! Go me!" Mikey jumped and danced and hollered, making a real spectacle of himself. Donny and Leo gave each other a look that said, "He's hopeless." 

Before they could try and convince Mikey any further, Raph walked in, shrugged out of his trench coat and hung it with his pathetic excuse for a hat. He silently looked around and took into account the state of their old subway tunnel home. He walked across the spacious room, walking under the gentle light of the large stained glass dome in the center of the ceiling, disregarding the curious looks on his brothers' faces.

He found it funny that he could relate so well with the nature of their lair. It was secret, abandoned, apart from the real world...and Raph had to face it with a smirk of amusement...it was dome-shaped, just like his head. Raph headed into one of the subway cars that he had labeled his own room and slammed the door shut. Of course he didn't do it on purpose; it was more to him like an everyday thing. Come "home," hang his coat, walk past his quiet brothers, go to his room, slam the door. To Raph, he was just going through the motions of everyday life for him.

Leo and Donny always took this as a hint to leave Raph in peace. However, Mikey, not being as bright or as "ripe" as the other two, immediately walked his merry way over to Raph's door and tapped on it cheerfully. "Yo bro, got some pizza in the kitchen! Want some?"

No answer.

"Aww come on, dude! Don't be a hot-head! Maybe we should give you a different color mask. Red makes you a grouch."

Raph, from inside his room, was deeply considering pounding Mikey, but restrained himself. He didn't like the attention Mikey gave him, and if he had anything to do with it, would have put a stop to it long before he had even walked in. He knew, however, that it was Mikey. Mikey was going nowhere anytime soon.

"Like yellow..."

Raph cringed at the thought. He hated yellow.

Mikey opened the door. Leo and Donny held their breath and trembled as Mikey dared to open Raph's door when he was in a bad mood. 

"Mikey! You're being suicidal!" Leo and Donny hissed from behind him.

"Yellow for bright happy sunshine!" Mikey poked his head into the room and gave Raph a smile. Raph looked up threateningly, wondering why the hell Mikey was making such a sincere death wish. However, he was defeated by the silly smile on Mikey's face, and he couldn't help but laugh. His laugh was stiff, unpracticed, a bit uncertain and awkward...but it felt good. 'Leave it to Mikey, eh?' He stood up rather laboriously, finally feeling the fatigue of the evening's events, and went to Mikey to lock him in a noogy.

"You goof," Raph murmured exhaustingly as he passed Mikey to head to the pizza box on their "dining" table. Masses of pizza boxes consumed it on top and around, some even organized into pizza box castles and forts. Undoubtedly it was Mikey's art. 

Leo and Donny looked at Raph in sheer amazement, drop-jawed and wide-eyed. Raph took no notice of it, and dropped himself next to Leo on the couch and stared indifferently at the TV. Leo was reluctant to move...even breath. Eventually, he calmed down enough to continue eating his pizza. 

By the time Donny and Leo had recovered, Raph had spoken, his Brooklyn accent spread thick again. "Who had their pork rinds bet on the 49ers?"

Mikey jumped from the pizza castles he had begun to work on again and replied, "That'd be me!"

"You just lost."

"WHAT?" Mikey jumped to the TV, grabbing hold of it and wailing dramatically, "NO! Mike Rumph, you have failed me!"

Donny looked at Mikey in confusion. "Mike Rumph? He's a cornerback! What's so special about him? He doesn't even do hardly any of the scoring!"

"Duh! His name's MIKE!" 

Leo, Raph and Donny all broke out laughing at Mikey's silliness, noting how he had answered like it was a stupid question. Leo convinced Mikey to go buy the pork rinds, (though Donny and Mikey were questioning as to Leo's sudden taste for fried pig skin,) and while he was gone, the echoes of his skateboard drumming through the sewer tunnels, Donny and Leo dared to approach Raph with a few questions.

"Uh, Raph?" Leo began somewhat fearfully. 

"What?" Raph grunted, flipping through the channels to find some good killing action. 

"You okay, dude?"

Raph looked at Leo briefly before surfing more channels. They had been through these conversations more than once, and the repetitiveness was starting to get to him. "Your wasting your breath, Leo. I've always been okay and always will be okay. Lay off now, will ya?"

Donny decided that if their was gonna be a fight on this topic, he might as well chime in. "But Raph...you've been acting a little off lately, like you're not yourself. You haven't been...I dunno...you haven't been picking on Leo or nothin'. In fact, you didn't even kill Mike when he opened y--"

"GOD DAMN!" Raph threw the remote at Donny, who dodged automatically as it slammed into the back of his chair, but still in shock. "Lay off me, dammit! Do you really WANT me to pick on Leo? Huh!?" With that, he stood up and slammed Leo's arm, leaving Leo to clutch his arm robotically, but hardly noticing the pain. Leo was too much in shock of how his brother was reacting. "Do you WANT me to go find Mike and kill him for opening my door? DO YA? How about it, Donny? Wanna fight about something you don't need to start? All of you, lay the fuck off me! I'm fine! JUST LET ME HAVE A BIT OF SPACE!"

Raph stomped over to the coat hanger and snatched his trench coat and fedora, leaving his two brothers with no more but shock and exasperation. In the silence of the lair, Donny and Leo were pensive and regretful. The quiet made Leo uneasy, and he looked at Donny, whose eyes were cast down to his half-finished pizza.

"Do you think we've really been pushy with him, Don?" Leo asked, getting up to get an ice pack for his arm. 

"I guess so." Donny was thinking, hardly aware of the TV quietly murmuring in the background. "Man. Every day ends like this. First, we practice with Splinter. Raph goes for a rest-of-the-day walk. He comes back and says nothing. Just stomps off to his room. Then one of us pisses him off and he's gone again."

"But he's never gotten THAT pissed off before," Leo commented, coming back to the couch and gesturing for the remote. 

"Oh well," Donny sighed, tossing the remote to Leo. "Just let him be. We must promise not to pry into Raph at all. Just go about our day and strike up normal conversations...no questions about his well-being. Got it?"

"Got it."

Just as Leo had agreed, Mikey came bursting through the door completely out of breath.

"Dude! I'm never going to THAT supermarket ever again! When they say 'no skateboards' they MEAN no skateboards! All I was doing was--"

Donny and Leo looked up at Mikey and said in unison, "Mikey, shut up."

Mikey looked offended, and threw the bag of pork rinds in Leo's direction. 

"Mikey, buddy, sit down. We gotta discuss something with you."

"Does it have anything to do with lemons?"

Donny and Leo gave each other inquisitive looks.

"I passed Raph on the way out and he was cussing at a rotten lemon." Mikey looked expectantly at Donny and Leo, hoping he could make sense of Raph's unnecessary hatred toward the innocent fruit.

"Whatever," Leo and Donny sighed in unison. This would be harder than they thought.

Meanwhile, Raph was walking angrily through Central Park like he had earlier. He had had a lot of stuff on his mind, and needed the fresh air. Being an 18-year-old, fully healthy young turtle was doing a real number on him. Hormones raging in his body, dreams and passions storming his mind mercilessly, and any other frustrations he hadn't filtered into categories yet gave him every right to be irritable. Despite his rather simple reasons for his actions, he wouldn't share any of them with his concerned brothers. 

'What do they know?' Raph asked himself silently. 'Everything's a big deal to them. A wrong tone in your voice means the world's ending.' 

He looked up at the moon peeking through the stormy clouds. "Damn rain. Go away!" he murmured. 

An indescribable feeling of sadness swept over him. Somehow, he couldn't figure out what was making him so down, so melancholy...all he could really picture was his brother Donatello. Though he felt it was a little strange to think of one of his brothers in his mood changes, deep down it felt comforting. He thought hard about Donny, contemplating the reasons why Donny stayed up at ungodly hours researching and typing away, why it comforted him to learn things and answer questions, why he seemed so happy doing it. A pain in his chest strained his nerves, and he clutched the insides of his pockets in desperate fists. 

Suddenly, he thought of Leonardo. Why did Leo always practiced his katas? Why did he meditate so often, staying so calm and seeming so passive of Raph's argument? Why did his eyes comfort Raph briefly when he screamed and yelled and stressed, feeling familiar, feeling safe? Why did Leo's aura make Raph feel that Leo somehow could relate to him? 

That thought just made him even more angry. 

His thoughts passed on to Michelangelo. Mikey seemed to find happiness in everything he did. Limitless jokes were his ways of making the best of things. Why did Mikey seem so oblivious to Raph's anger, his hate, his warnings, or his stress? Why did he talk to Raph like Raph would understand anything he said, like he would agree, or like he would reply with the same mood and feeling? Why was he so willing to forgive when all Raph did was hold the grudge? Why was Mikey so happy? 

Why, why, why? 

Raph's thoughts went off at a tangent when he felt a hot sensation touch his cheeks. Tears. His tears. Crying...something Raph was ashamed to do, but willing to let happen. They slid down his face in groups of waterfalls, stroking his cheeks in comfort and relief. He hadn't cried for years. It felt alleviating to release some of the secreted anguish, letting it flow freely from his ebony eyes now dark and profound, reflecting inward-bound pain. The agony accelerated behind each drop, flowing down to empty him of the pent-up anger, made Raph's body tremble with longing. He longed to be like his brothers; he longed to be normal. Or, at least, as normal as he was able to be. 

Raph sucked in a harsh, trembling breath, sniffing in vocal response to his tears as he wiped his eyes with the palms of his three-fingered hands. He kept his hands covering his eyes, letting the tears seep through them and wash away the filth and throbbing pain in his callused hands. 

Why did life have to be the hardest for him? Why couldn't he find something to make him happy? And most of all...why was he the only one who wasn't satisfied? 


	2. Donatello's Discovery

_Yay! A chapter 2! Okay, this is where my story actually begins to unfold. Like I said...I. Don't. Own. Anything. (Except Brandy and the...well...read and find out in the future chapters!) In fact, I'm not even sure why I bother with a disclaimer when EVERYONE knows I'd be hunted down and killed by copyright law enforcers if I even muttered the tempting words "I own the turtles." (But secretly Donny is mine and no one can have him!) Damn...here they come..._

"MICHELANGELO!"  
  
The voice rang through the depths of the New York sewer system, violently shaking the walls in indirect accusation. Like the walls and sewage water, Mikey trembled at the sound of Donatello's enraged and thoroughly stunned voice.  
  
'It never happened. Denial is the key. Breathing is the second key. Eye contact is the third. Fourth…'  
  
Mikey groaned, barely audible, as he mentally went through the requirements for successful and effective lying strategies. He could never pull it off. Mikey figured he might as well accept the fact he was – and always would be – horrible and unconvincing at the art of lying.  
  
"Might as well face the music," Mikey murmured, walking from his hurricane-visited bedroom and out to the living area. He could picture his grave, and the horrible sound of the death song being played on the trumpet. He cleared his throat to calm himself. "Y-yes, Donny?"  
  
"Don't sound so innocent, Michelangelo." Donny's back was facing Mikey, and his voice was cold, hurt and stern. It was rare to see or hear Donny in this state, and when he was, everyone knew it meant something was undoubtedly wrong.  
  
"Donny—"  
  
"Don't try to explain just yet." Donny turned in his computer chair, facing Mikey with serious, demanding eyes. Mikey was immediately reminded of Raphael. "First, I want to say that I have done a lot for you as a brother and as a friend."  
  
Mikey nodded.  
  
"AND as a mechanic, doctor, electrician…"  
  
Mikey looked down in shame, playing absentmindedly with one of the nunchakus attached to his belt.  
  
"And this is how you repay me?" Donny pointed to his computer. Nothing seemed wrong with it at a first glance. However, Donny turned toward the computer and brought up one of his many files. The little folder icon was in plain view, and under it read the name: Donatello's Research. Donny clicked on the icon and waited as his computer loaded. A screen of white stared the two turtles in the face.  
  
Mikey's hands fidgeted with more than just his weapons now. His arms and hands went from a crossed position to a thoughtful position to a to-be explanation position all in a matter of seconds, all sudden stops and all in many different orders.  
  
"Do you see anything, Mikey?"  
  
Mikey looked his brother in the eye, afraid to answer, and honestly, unable to. He wasn't sure if Donny sought an answer right then or if he was further making him feel the nakedness of shame. As a response, Mikey shook his head "no."  
  
"Neither do I." Donny's voice went from the stern mother punishing her child to hurt, abandoned and distant. He sighed. "That research was all I had to keep updated on things that went on. News, people, events, weather…I had everything. I had studies going…the DNA structure of our mutation...the chemical components and the anatomy comparisons. I was even studying our origin, had journal entries of contemplations and personal thoughts, scientific theories and some of my own…all about how we came to be and what our purpose is. I had EVERYTHING in there. And look where it is."  
  
Mikey's eyes were threatening to release the dam of tears that were building up, tears that represented the core of his grief and guilt. He felt horrible, and he wanted to explain himself, but fought the urge to allow Donny to sock more of his anger to him. He deserved it.  
  
"It's gone. All of it…gone."  
  
Mikey sniffed, shifting nervously from side to side like a child.  
  
"Mikey…please…_why_ did you DELETE it?" Now Donny's voice became desperate, demanding and angry. He slammed his hand flat on the computer table, awaiting Mikey's answer.  
  
That is, if Mikey could remember it.  
  
When Mikey had gathered his thoughts together and had recovered enough from the onslaught of brotherly guilt to function, he looked Donny in the eyes. His voice was rough, sounding as if it hadn't been used in years. "I was just going to play some games," Mikey began.  
  
"But I had asked you not to go on my computer, Michelangelo!"  
  
"I know." Mikey didn't defend himself. He just slowly and honestly told it like it was. "I went to a game site and played some sport games. Then all of these pop-up thingies kept on making me loose the games, so I clicked 'no' for most and hit random keys." 

Donny had his arms crossed, looking intently at the floor, seeming to be listening and nodding his head. His lips were sealed tight, like he was thinking hard. Mikey dared to go on. 

"I guess one of those pop-ups was a bad one, because eventually it showed this window going through all of your files. I hit some keys to make it stop, but when I did, it landed on your folder and deleted it." 

Donny cringed at the sound of that. His eyes became heavy with disappointment, but he convinced himself not to blame Mikey for it. Despite the logic behind keeping his temper at a minimum, he couldn't help but feel the burning flames of neglect...why wouldn't anyone take him seriously? 'No means no means no...' 

Mikey, being the foolish, youngest turtle of the four, made little sniffling sounds. He was such a big baby. Donny looked up, unfolding his arms and resting his hands on his kneecaps. 

"I'm really sorry, Donny." 

Donny sighed and shook his head. He knew he was incapable of staying angry, but very well knew it was what he had to do. Why couldn't he just stick by his word, be stern, and get things done for himself? No...he would always be the brother all the rest can count on...to fix TV's, radios, bikes, heaters, refrigerators... 

"It's okay, Mikey. I just wish you understood. I hope you didn't destroy my backup files, but taking in your story, with my luck you probably did." Donny sighed again, turning his back on Mikey again and staring at his computer. "Go on, Mikey. Go eat pizza or do your katas or something." 

"But Donny—" 

"It's okay, Mikey. I'll find a way to get them back. I always do." 

"Really? Phew...I'm glad you're not mad. If you were it would have scared me to death! Thanks, bro...oh, and I'll never EVER go on your computer again! Promise!" 

'That's what everyone says,' Donny thought gloomily. 'Promises don't last when it comes to me...because I'll _always_ forgive them in the end.' 

Donny got up from his chair and crossed the living area into the kitchen. He was suddenly reminded of the project he had going with the coffee maker he had found at the junkyard. It still needed some crucial parts. Figuring that since it was a project _he _wanted done, not his brothers, he would willingly go out and find the necessary parts. He needed the fresh air. 

"Guys, I'm going topside," Donny murmured as he passed the TV. Raph and Leo were playing the new N64 Donny had found and fixed up for them a few days ago. 

"Dammit, Leo! Quit firing those things! I have no weapons yet!" 

"I told you, Raph! I'm not giving you any mercy. If our roles were switched you'd be burning my ass, so I'm doing the same!" 

"But you got the goddamn minigun last time!" 

"You snooze you loose, bro!" 

Donny figured they were playing one of the Turok games, so shrugged it off and put on his coat and fedora. He was glad that Raph was feeling better, nonetheless. Ever since he had returned from his anger walk the other night, he seemed to want to spend as much time with his brothers as possible. Raph had even taken an interest in some of Mikey's football cards. Of course Raph was still an insensitive jerk, but at least he was more normal than before. And, if his actions seemed abnormal to the other two turtles, they didn't say anything about it in fear of being targeted. 

Donny trudged through the murky waters of the sewer tunnels, kicking and splashing monotonously. Hands dug deep into trench coat pockets, Donny thought hard about his status among his brothers. 

His brothers were the most reckless turtles ever to live. (Well, the only, since there aren't that many mutant turtles in the world nowadays.) Everything they had broke somehow. Raph could fix anything concerning auto parts. Everything else, (mostly being electrical,) went to Donny. Coincidentally, most of the things broken were electrical. The TV had broken who knows how many times, the refrigerator, toaster, radio, and heater broke on occasion, and the air conditioner broke mainly during the summer. (And what a wonderful time to break, too.) 

Basically, Donny was the other turtles' handyman. He was the nerd who would figured out everything for them. He was the smartest, he was the most talented with his hands...he just had too many qualities to him to add on to his kind, gentle nature. 

Donny had reached the manhole, and he looked up the ladder as if it were an old friend. He regarded it simply as the ladder he used to return to his sanctuary. The junkyard was Donny's haven...his place to think. He grabbed hold of one of the handles and lifted himself up, climbing up at a decent pace. His ninja senses were alert, but hardly on duty during Donny's intense train of thought. 

Peering through the opening, he lingered a while, making sure no one was going to come. No one really would, but as master Splinter instructed, Donny was cautious anyway. When not a single sign of life stirred, he lifted himself out of the manhole and started his way to the junkyard. 

Up above, the moon shone down on him sympathetically. Her glow embraced Donny, droplets of light staining the filth of the yard that only proved the wasteful nature of Americans. Nature's tears were falling for him in the form of blissful moonbeams. Somehow, the moonlight made the junkyard appear to be a peaceful, natural tower of rocks and trees. Apart from night in the actual city, nights here seemed to bring Donny back to a more natural state.

Donny was grateful for the stars he could see that night. In the city, there were too many lights for him to get a good look at a star or two. Now, they winked at him in giddy girl-like fashions, groups of them smiling and seeming to kiss the black velvet of the midnight sky. The thought of reproduction occurred to him briefly, and though in the past he could easily shrug it aside, for it was a matter that did not apply to him, his body refused to do the same.

Donny sat on a crushed car, and thoughts that had never crossed his mind were searing their way into his brain. 'What will happen to us when we're gone?' he thought. 'We'll be...gone. Completely gone. There will be no proof of our existence left behind. We'll be wiped clean off the face of the Earth!'

At first, the idea of love didn't appeal to him, for there was nobody he could love. 'A human girl? That's a likely story.' Instead, Donny tried to think of ways that he could preserve some part of him and his brothers so they may save their existence when they died. 

Donny shrugged the thought away again, thinking he had plenty of time to think about that, since he was healthy young turtle who would (hopefully) not die any time soon. "Now, to get those parts..." he murmured out loud, tugging enthusiastically at his hat and getting to work.

Sometime during his digging, Donny felt a breeze of disturbance in the peacefulness of the night. His head lifted, and his body automatically set itself into a crouched, prepared stance. He opened his mouth, allowing the second of his two means of turtle smelling to take in the aroma around him. Something seemed not right, something seemed to smell like...

Before Donny could put a name to a scent, he heard a grunt and felt himself pushed and thrown from his tower of trash, hitting the ground with a painful smack as well as a gather of weight landing on top of him. He cried out in response, as Splinter always taught him, so that the impact would not hit him so hard. When he recovered, ready to spring up and fight back, he realized he was staring into the eyes of a girl.

"Shh!!!" the girl hissed. She closed her hand on Donny's mouth, and he panicked when he realized that touching his face may scare her. He thrashed his head away from her hand. 

"What the—" Donny began, but the girl hushed him once more, attempting to cover his mouth again, but Donny threw his head sideways and listened. Shuffling and cursing could be heard far off in the distance, as well as stranger sounds seeming to be in the form of motion. Donny's heart was pounding from the suddenness, but he began to relax while the girl was silent, stiff, and alert, and as he waited, actually began to feel a bit tired. 

Before he could go any further than a doze, the girl jumped off him suddenly, startling him. He sprang up as well, his hand behind his back ready to grab his bo. Donny knew he could never hurt the girl if she were dangerous, but perhaps just disarm her... 

"I can't believe those idiots," the girl muttered, dusting the dirt off of her faded overalls. Donny took this moment to observe her, figure out what it was he was truly looking at. She seemed normal enough as far as her clothing went. Under her overalls she sported a purple tank top that hugged her body tight enough to flaunt her form, as well as stopping above her belly button. Old, worn out black boots peered out from under the long, wide pant legs of her overalls, which her hands were now stuffed deep into the pockets of. Her hair was to her shoulders and layered, the top layer curled out and the bottom layer curled in. She wore a worn out brown leather Greek Fisherman's hat that tilted to the right of her face, which was a simple oval structure. 

Now came the part that Donny found a bit odd, but couldn't be sure of. She was thin, and her skin seemed fair. However, her skin tone seemed to have an unnatural hue, almost purple. Donny dismissed that thought with the explanation that it was the moonlight. Also, her eyes — he had never seen such a shade — were a piercing arctic blue. The girl was small, but seemed close to his age. Her expression was unmoving; it was neither annoyed or pleased. 

"Done?" 

Donny jumped at the sound of her voice. He hadn't realized just how long he was observing, for she had been standing there, observing him as well. At the mere thought of that, he folded the collar of his coat up to hide his face, making it look like he was cold. The girl didn't fall for that, though. 

"You seem kind of odd. Why are you hiding?" Her voice was very soft, but very confident. The sound almost reminded Donny of cotton candy, a luxury he had experienced one night when a child dropped a bagful of the fresh, fluffy pink sugar next to a storm drain he had been passing. (Luckily the bag was closed; he was getting sick and tired of finding rotten things.) 

"I'm just cold," Donny answered rather quickly. 

"Uh huh." The girl approached him, and for some reason, Donny seemed rooted to the spot. He had no strength nor desire to reach for his weapon, even though he was scared out of his mind. She unbuttoned his coat and slipped it off, while almost at the same time flipping off his fedora. Her wide arctic blue eyes scared Donny more than anything in his whole life when she beheld the awesome creature standing before her. 

Donny was getting ready to run from her, until he realized she was downright enthralled. She seemed to be one of those people who has to touch things; and that's precisely what she did. She touched his plastron, outlining with her fingers the indents of the lines forming squares across it. She touched his arms, interested in the texture of his greenish flesh. She touched the folds of his neck, her eyes sparkling with interest the entire time. She touched his shell, his belt, his weapon, his hands, his face, his nose...she couldn't get enough of him. 

"Wow," she sighed, "You are absolutely fascinating." Donny hadn't heard anybody say that to him, not even Splinter. It was something he knew the meaning of, but never used or heard it being used. Not directed at him, anyway. He himself used the word a lot when fixing things, but either than that, it was a rare word that was like a treat to hear. 

"Uh...thanks," was all Donny managed to stammer. Finally, after recovering from his shock, he addressed her more formally. "If you don't mind, before you please yourself in observing me more, may I ask your name?" He hadn't meant to sound rude, which was, unfortunately, the way it sounded. So, he smiled at her with friendliness. 

The girl smiled back, her lips a lovely, shining thin-on-top-full-on-bottom pair. She flipped off her hat, seeming to show she had nothing to hide from him. Emerging from where her ears should have been were horns, curling back and then folding forward, sharp an dangerous. She reminded Donny of a ram almost. Her eyes sparkled again with excitement upon the finding of another strange one like her. 

"My name's Brandy." 


	3. Contemplations

_Ahhh...a chapter 3. Never thought I'd be so interested in this story. Normally, I start but never finish. I have confidence in this one...  
THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS!! And, FairDrea, I appreciate the help in chapter 2. (Oh, and it _ ** was**_ corner back; I can see why that would throw people off though. I've never even HEARD of the position.) And yes, Echo, grammar and spelling really do count. And to everyone else...^_^ Thank you!   
GO READ FAIRDREA'S STUFF SHE'S THE BEST!!!!!!!!!!!! (After reading me, of course....LOL.)_

Raphael was spread lazily across his bed, picking at the food in his teeth with the tip of his sai. It was a dangerous thing to do, especially since he could recall hundreds of occasions when Mikey had burst in on him and scared him half to death, causing him to slice his gums or something. One arm behind his head and one knee bent up, he was listening attentively to Linkin Park. 

Raph loved Linkin Park's music.Although their music was always sad or angry, they portrayed the emotions of everyday people (in this case, turtles) perfectly. The thoughts, the anger, the desperateness, the hurt...all of it made Raph. He understood them perfectly, and somehow felt like they understood him; it seemed like they wrote the songs _about _Raph.

_It's easier to run  
Replacing this pain with something numb  
It's so much easier to go  
Than face all this pain here all alone_

Raph closed his eyes, taking in the essence of the music...the feel of the lyrics molding into images. He felt comforted that someone else out there could feel the same way he felt.

_Something has been taken from deep inside of me  
The secret I've kept locked away no one can ever see  
Wounds so deep they never show they never go away  
Like moving pictures in my head for years and years they've played  
  
(If I could change I would take back the pain I would)  
(Retrace every wrong move that I made I would)  
(If I could stand up and take the blame I would)  
(If I could take all the shame to the grave I would)  
(If I could change I would take back the pain I would)  
(Retrace every wrong move that I made I would)  
(If I could stand up and take the blame I would)  
(I would take all my shame to the grave)_

Shame...that was Raph's problem. Shame of being a turtle, shame of having an old rat for a sensei, shame of his brothers, shame of the life of secrecy...shame of being a freak. A mutant turtle. Chills ran their icy fingers up and down Raph's neck as he became overwhelmed with the truth behind the words.

_It's easier to run  
Replacing this pain with something numb  
It's so much easier to go  
Than face all this pain here all alone_

_Sometimes I remember the darkness of my past  
Bringing back these memories I wish I didn't have  
Sometimes I think of letting go and never looking back  
And never moving forward so there'd never be a past_

If only he could change his past...if only he could decide how his life would go. If it were up to him, he wouldn't have fallen in the goo. At least he would have been a normal turtle living a normal turtle life. He wouldn't want to be a human if he could help it, seeing that the violence, the hate, the heartbreak -- every single bit of it -- was what humans were. They didn't just kill, they tortured. Raph was passionate about the fact that humans were disgusting, although he himself didn't mind a good blood spill every now and again. 'But it's only those who torture others that I kill...' he reasoned with himself. Humans killed for no real reason. Humans _were_ disgusting.

In fact, _humans _wrote this fantastic song. He felt the bitterness tighten around his mouth and his shoulders...he couldn't stand humans.

However...they could love. As for Raph and his brothers...

_(If I could change I would take back the pain I would)  
(Retrace every wrong move that I made I would)  
(If I could stand up and take the blame I would)  
(If I could take all the shame to the grave I would)  
(If I could change I would take back the pain I would)  
(Retrace every wrong move that I made I would)  
(If I could stand up and take the blame I would)  
(I would take all my shame to the grave)_

Raph didn't know love. He knew that it was something two "people" shared, something magical. Something he wanted to know about. He hated not knowing; it made him feel so inferior knowing he couldn't know. It wasn't the type of love he had for his brothers or Splinter, but it was a love that only humans could have. He felt the longing and craving for the company of another who wouldn't run away, who wouldn't ask what was wrong because they'd already know, who would sit there in silence with him and not need to speak because they'd speak silently...

Raph figured nobody would ever want to love him. His pleasure was fighting, his heart was cold as ice, he was distant, untrusting, rigid...he couldn't hold a heart in the palms of his hands without hurting it. His anger always got in the way, and the closest thing to him would tremble under his rage. He couldn't even express to his brothers that they meant the world to him.

The next part Raph eagerly and enthusiastically sang along with. He was fairly good at singing Linkin Park songs, seeing that the anger in their voices matched the same tone as the anger in his heart. It was the climax, the story of Raph's life...

_Just washing it aside  
All of the helplessness inside  
Pretending I don't feel misplaced  
It's so much simpler than change..._

Raph relaxed and fell onto his pillow, dropping his sai and shutting his eyes tight together. It was too true. All he did was hide it away, pretending nothing ate away like an infesting parasite at his heart. His heart...a part of him that was horribly fragile and helpless against popular belief. He listened to the rest of the song in a melancholy state.

_It's easier to run  
Replacing this pain with something numb  
It's so much easier to go  
Than face all this pain here all alone  
  
It's easier to run  
(If I could change I would take back the pain I would)  
(Retrace every wrong move that I made)  
It's easier to go  
(If I could change I would take back the pain I would)  
(Retrace every wrong move that I made I would)  
(If I could stand up and take the blame I would)  
(I would take all my shame to the grave)_

As the song ended, Raph sat up and switched off his CD player. He glanced down at his sai, which was stained at the tip with a couple droplets of crimson blood. 'Must have cut my gums again,' Raph thought. Blood...it reminded him of his mask, and his mask reminded him of blood. However, it also reminded him of fire, since it burns. But he also was reminded of rage, hatred, anger...

That's what Raph was. A mold of blood, fire and rage. "A rage of bloodthirsty fire..." Raph decided. "I burn whatever crosses my path." At the thought of the word "cross," which also meant angry, Raph punched his pillow with all the strength he had.

"DAMN!"

No matter what he did, he couldn't escape the truth. He was, and always would be, a cold-hearted, hot-tempered jerk that was built to kill. A monstrous machine. That's all he was good for. He could hardly be a good brother. Raph realized that when he saw the bruise on Leo's arm.

Raph cursed again, and abruptly stood and stomped out of his room. He was about to grab his coat and fedora when a familiar voice caught the fuming, cursing air around him and settled it to a dull roar.

"My son, where are you going?"

Splinter stood outside his subway car, leaning against his stick and looking solemnly at Raph. Raph felt suddenly the guilt of what he had felt earlier. He had been ashamed that a rat was his sensei, and now he felt that filial love.

"Out. That okay with you?" Although he felt a sudden rush of love again, he still did not want to make himself vulnerable to Splinter just yet. Maybe when he had cooled off...

"No, my son. You must stay here. I want to speak with you."

"Can't this wait? I've got a lot on my mind."

"Yes, I know," Splinter began, walking uneasily towards the red-masked turtle for reasons of his aging. "That is why you and I must speak."

"But I just--"

"Now!"

Raph knew that when Splinter raised his voice, it meant that he had better listen. Raph grunted in protest, stomping his way to Splinter's car. Splinter followed silently, keeping in mind that this was a delicate matter.

"Raphael," Splinter began as he sat down on his favorite pillows. Raph sat across from him, looking evilly at the floor. Splinter continued. "I have sensed a disturbance in your waters. You ripple pain, you radiate anger. You have chosen to face this anger silently. I feel an uneasiness about you. You are uncertain, you are hurt. What troubles you, Raphael?"

Raph sat silently, distrustful as he always had been whether to share his secret with master Splinter. The candles about the room flickered, urging him to speak. Finally, he broke the silence with an indifferent voice. "I don't know."

"But you do. You are the only one who knows what troubles you, and you refuse to share it for fear of being weak and exposed. I have always taught you four turtles to never open yourself to an enemy. Never fall under the pressure of vulnerability. But you have chosen to apply that to your life. A ninja knows his troubles and knows how to course them away. You are fighting a battle that others can fight with you in. Why not share with me?"

"Because there's too much to say!" Raph blurted. He snapped his mouth shut when he realized he had spoken so sharply to Splinter. "Sorry, master Splinter."

"I understand there is much to say. But I have much time to spare. You are my son. I will always find the time to listen to you."

Raph, uncertain and somewhat unwilling, told Splinter of his hate of humans, and his hate of being a freak. He told him of his desire to kill, his hatefulness, his joy in fighting, his hot temper...he even told him about the non-verbal translation he had made about the color of his mask. 

Throughout Raph's explanation, Splinter was listening absorbedly, satisfied and happy that Raph was finally releasing some of his troubles in a non-physical fashion. However, he felt that Raph was hiding one important thing; the root of all his anguish.

Raph finished, refusing to give away the one thing he feared anyone to know. The root of his ache, the core of his agony. The fact that he was lonely.

"My dear son...my Raphael..." Splinter soothed fondly, putting a furry hand atop the turtle's head. "You have translated your mask in all negative, hurtful things. You have understood it as a desire to kill. And your blood boils when you release your rage. But do you not also realize that red is also the color of a heart?  
  
"Blood pumps into a heart, Raphael. Perhaps you do not realize that maybe you do not desire to kill, but to bring life? Perhaps you can love, my son?"

Raph's tears were brimming his eyes, and he wanted to believe Splinter. However, the downside of it all was pounding in the back of his mind...

'But master, who could I ever love? There is no other freak like me. And I always hurt someone...physically and emotionally.' He hadn't intended on saying it, but rather thought it to himself. If he could only tell Splinter that he was lonely...that he wanted to learn how to love... 

"Raphael. I want you to try and trust others with your anger. A volcano cannot be dormant for long. One day it will have to release in the worst way possible. It will destroy anything in its path. Do not become that volcano, my son."

Donny was utterly stunned at the sight of Brandy. Her horns were an apparent part of her that he hadn't ever thought possible. She didn't seem the least bit fazed from his shocked stare, though. Brandy just stood there, allowing him to observe her.

"May I?" Donny asked, lifting his hand up to signify the desire to touch just as she had done to him.

"Of course. Fair is fair." 

Donny gingerly fingered the horns, which were seemingly made of a material similar to ivory. He traced his fingers down to the base of them, where the skin met the base of the horn, pushing back her hair. 'Her hair smells almost like cantaloupes,' Donny thought. 

It seemed that the horns were part of her skull. Naturally, Donny found this girl to be a perfect opportunity to study further on mutations, but when he remembered that she was, in fact, a girl with feelings and emotions, living and breathing...he cast that thought away for the moment.

"What are you?" he spluttered.

Brandy smiled, answering back, "Do you really want to know?"

Donny nodded.

"You would never believe me."

Donny shrugged. "I'm not all that easy to believe either."  
  
"I guess your right!" Brandy laughed. Her laugh was light, sweet and song-like. Donny couldn't help but laugh, too. She was contagious. "I am one of the Oasai. That's kind of like a sprite or something, whatever it is humans call them. I am one of many who are the singers of dreams."  
  
"I beg your pardon?" Donny interrupted, unsure if he had heard correctly.

"Dream Singers. We are the creators of dreams."

Donny felt this was going to take a while, so he sat down on an old tire.

"When a person (or turtle) goes to sleep, their senses relax and they become very vulnerable. They cannot respond to anything happening to them, which is often why they cannot control what they dream. This is when an individual Oasai connects with their host, (the sleeper,) and sings. The song tells a story and creates images. That's why so many dreams are symbolic, because something from what has happened, is happening, or will happen translates itself into something familiar, like a place or an animal. Pretty much, we give everyone a glimpse of what their life will turn out like. We make their lives and very secretly hint it to them. Unfortunately, people today are not very well connected with the art of dreams...they're like poetry, really, and people gradually fail to understand it. And 90% of what is said is lost when the person wakes up. Many of us are dying for this reason. That's why I am here, but I cannot tell you what I am doing. I'd have to learn to trust you first. Understand?"  
  
Donny sat silently by, taking everything in and swallowing bit-by-bit. "Actually I'm quite a few steps behind you," Donny admitted, standing. "This is all quite a bit to learn for a first introduction."

Brandy laughed. "Yes, well I apologize for giving out too much. See, since so many people sleep at different times, introductions where I come from are short, and we give as much information about ourselves as fast as we can so we may communicate comfortably with that new acquaintance later on without feeling we've missed something." Brandy stopped to laugh. "I imagine you don't believe me, do you?" Her smile suggested she was right, and Donny, being a male, felt threatened and had to prove his own point. 

"It's just not logical! Dreams are completely of the brain; it's the body's way of keeping sane and recognizing mental stress--" 

"You're not very optimistic, are you?" 

"On the contrary," Donny corrected. "I am very optimistic. Just not a believer of fantasy. Science fiction is as far as I'll go." 

"Then study the science of art, poetry..." Brandy paused to look Donny in the eyes, capturing his gaze and holding it with her own mystifying orbs. "And dreams." 

Donny couldn't think of a single thing to say. 


	4. Michelangelo's Promise

_Alrighty...here's the 4th chapter. Sorry it took longer for this one. I lost my inspiration momentarily, and then finally found it again. I despise writer's block. Reminder:  
No flames, no copying, and NO LAWYERS. Thank you!! ^_^_

Donatello stepped down from the manhole and into the ankle-high sewer water in the maze of tunnels, helping Brandy down after hitting bottom. His movements and voice echoed throughout the channels, making him slightly nervous, but at the same time relaxed to be in utter darkness once again.

After hearing Brandy's interesting story, and after she had replaced her Greek Fisherman's hat back onto her head, Donny had offered to show her to his home where she could rest. Secretly, though, Donny was interested in more than just finding her a place to lay her head...

You know what that was?

Yeah, everyone knows what motivations are secretly planned when an opportunity like _this _comes around...

And Donny _is _a type that would probably do this...

Donny was overpowered by the longing for science. He smiled in his pleasure.

"Why is it so dark?" Brandy asked, her voice a curious child. 

"That's just how it is in the sewer," Donny said, unsure of how he was supposed to answer that. He felt his answer explained enough, for he didn't really know why it was dark and lacked lighting on the ceilings...it just...was dark. No humans ever decided to install any electricity down in the sewers.

"Oh."

Donny walked forward, grabbing Brandy's hand, noticing the similarity it had to silk. "Just go where I go--" he was saying. Suddenly, a bright purple slam of light from behind his head almost blinded him, and he jumped away from Brandy in surprise. In doing so, Donny fell flat on his shell with a splash. He looked up to see that floating in the middle of Brandy's palm was a now small purple flame, lighting the tubes of the New York under maze. 

"Wha--?" Donny sputtered, making a great effort to roll on his side and stand up. Being a turtle wasn't always easy.

"Sorry for scaring you," Brandy said. "I just thought we could use some light."

"Uh huh."

Donny and Brandy walked on, Donny's patience with the light growing thinner and thinner by the second. He felt uneasy with the light, seeing that he had always walked the sewers in sheer darkness. The lighting was new, unfamiliar, and uncomfortable. Brandy didn't seem to notice, as her eyes were locked in a forward direction the entire time. 

Silence was drowning Donny. He felt he was supposed to spark some sort of lively, intriguing conversation that would make her more relaxed around him, as she seemed rather stiff and untouchable despite her kindness. Brandy must have been reading his mind, for just as he was thinking, 'I should say something to her to break this goddamn silence,' she incised the silence forcefully with a question that completely caught Donny off guard.

"Have you created any others like yourself?"

Donny gasped a bit, unsure of what to say to her. He knew very well what she meant, but since he was still trying to gather his senses, decided to make it sound as if he didn't understand. After all, she could have been implying that he or someone else had actually _created _others like him. Or, maybe she was talking about his weapons. Or...

"I'm sorry...what?"

"Do you have any children?"  
  
That question was far too blunt to put off with false dumbness again, although Donny would have appreciated something complex so he could question it one more time, seeing that he hadn't gathered enough of his senses to properly respond right that second.

"Well, no," Donny finally said after countless sessions of throat-clearing. "See, my brothers and I are the only ones of our kind, and seeing that we are the only ones, cannot likely reproduce in any manner that would be considered normal. We _are _four **male **turtles, you know."  
  
Brandy laughed that cotton candy laugh again, her eyes glittering with amusement. "Well, that's a pity. I very much like children."  
  
"Then you'll like Mikey..."  
  
"Mikey?"

"You'll see..."

Back at the lair, Michelangelo was cleaning the kitchen, and was quite bored with it. "I'm never making a bet with Leo ever again!" Mikey mumbled out loud, referring to the basketball game he and Leonardo had bet chores on. 

Raphael walked in, grouchy as usual. he stomped past Mikey, pulling the refrigerator open and grabbing a Pepsi. He was never one for Coke.

Mikey realized the tension in the air, and, forgetting completely that he was supposed to refrain himself from asking about Raph's well being, stopped his sweeping and walked over to Raph.

"Heya Raph! How ya doin'?" 

Raph didn't answer for a minute. Then, as if it was a horribly difficult effort, finally said, "Fine."

"Y'don't look fine. You look like hell. What's up?"

"I've just got a lot on my mind right now, kid."

Mikey kind of liked it when Raph called him "kid." He was the only one of his three brothers to get a nickname of somewhat endearment from Raph, as Raph always called Leo "perfect student" or "teacher's pet" or "goody-goody." Donny he always called "brainiac" or "nerd" or "bookworm."

"Well what is it?" Mikey urged.

"Nothing, Mikey."

"Aww come on, bro! You look like you really need to let off some steam! You've been very distant lately!" Upon seeing Raph's irritated expression, Mikey finally remembered that he wasn't supposed to ask Raph about what was up with him, and smacked his forehead as punishment. "I'm sorry, Raph! I wasn't supposed to ask you about it!"

Raph's face showed pure confusion. He took a gulp of his Pepsi before he set it down, swallowing as he asked, "You weren't supposed to ask me what?"

"What's wrong with you."

"Who told you that?"

"Leo and Donny." 

Raph was silent. He had been a real jerk to Leo and Donny...even Mikey. To think that they had all agreed to leave him alone and give him the space he demanded touched him somewhere. Now, as he looked at Mikey, who was still smacking his forehead, he felt something warm when he thought of all the times Mikey had offered his hand in comfort. Raph had always declined it, and Mikey always shrugged and said, "I've got ears, Raph. If ya wanna use 'em, they're still around." Mikey always had his hand stretched to him, no matter how many times he refused it or bat it away.

"Mikey, it's okay," Raph assured, smirking to himself. "Don't worry about it."

"You mean you're not gonna hit me like ya did to Leo?" Mikey clutched his arm and looked at him hopefully.

Raph laughed. He laughed like he hadn't for so long...he laughed a whole-hearted, sincere laugh. It sounded like he hadn't used his ability to laugh for years, because it sounded a bit crackly and off-key. But it felt great. 'God it feels good to have such an idiot brother...'

"Nah. You won't get hit."

"Phew."

Raph rubbed Mikey's head in affection, sitting down at the dining table, which he had convinced Mikey to clear the pizza boxes off of. Mikey's artwork now inhabited the corner of the living area. Mikey imitated Raph, sitting across from him. Raph really needed to talk to someone besides Splinter. Not tell them everything, of course...just ramble without being shut up.

"Hey Mikey?" Raph began uncertainly.

"Yep?"  
  
"Mind if I use those ears of yours?"

Mikey's whole face lit up. "Sure!"

"But you can't tell NO one that I ever said what I'm about to say!" 

"Okidokey."

Raph smiled. Then, his face went back to serious. "I'm just a little sick and tired of being a ninja turtle. I mean, the ninja stuff is great. I love kickin' ass. But...I dunno...being mutants does somethin' to ya, y'know?"

Mikey nodded. He wanted to tell Raph that it wasn't all that bad, that they had each other to look out for, but it seemed that one, Raph seemed to feel that wasn't enough for him, and two, Raph seemed to need to just talk and not get a response unless he asked for it. Mikey sat very still and listened.

"I hate being cooped up, Mikey," Raph resumed. "I hate having to hide. I hate how I can't even explore the wonders of the world that I live in. I wanna see things, Mikey. I want to see what the Grand Canyon is all about...what makes it so grand. I want to see that Niagara Falls and maybe swim in Crater Lake. They say you can't swim in it because it's the cleanest water in the world, but I could wash up or somethin'..."

Mikey was near tears as he listened very closely. His brother, the jerk, the isolated hero that was just that-- ice -- was confiding in him. Mikey held his breath, afraid that one wrong move would shatter the magic of the moment. This was all he wanted in life at the moment...to know someone needed him.

"I want so bad to climb Mt. Everest. I've read stories about how many people have tried to make it to the top, and only very few have done it. But I want to be the one to make it without any problems, feel the feeling of being higher than everybody else. I want to feel like I am the closest one to the clouds..."

Suddenly, he stopped. He had said to much. He had exposed too much of his fragile heart, and he was embarrassed. It was worse when he looked at Mikey. Mikey looked thoroughly shocked. But it wasn't shock that Mikey was feeling...it was joy. Overwhelming joy.

Mikey's heart raced when Raph didn't continue. He saw the panic in Raph's ebony eyes, the fear of vulnerability. He knew Raph would never change in that sense, but it broke Mikey's heart. Why couldn't Mikey be one that Raph could just poor into without feeling scared? Why couldn't Mikey mean something to somebody and give advice like his helpful nature yearned for?

"Why'd you stop, Raph?" Raph didn't say anything. Just looked down at the table. Raph was thankful that he didn't expose the stuff about love, his desire to kill, and his rage, but he still felt he had said too much. _Way _too much. "I know you don't like opening up, bro."

Raph was surprised, but didn't look up.

"But you don't have to worry about me. I won't tease you."

Raph was so close to crying, but held back. 

"If you want, I could tell you everything I've kept a secret, then you and I would be even. Would that make you feel better?"

Raph lifted his heavy eyes to meet Mikey's. Mikey was looking at him hopefully, and Raph could see the love there that had been there all along. The brotherly love. He saw how much Mikey cared, and how much Mikey just wanted to know. 'You're too curious for his own good, kid,' Raph thought with a secret smile. Although the love of a brother was good to feel, he knew that this type of love was the only type he would ever know. Brotherly love...nothing more.

"Mikey--" Before Raph could say anything, Donny's excited voice rang through the subway lair. Raph and Mikey looked at each other, and Raph sighed, standing up and patting Mikey's head again. "Thanks for listening, kid."

"Anytime, bro." Mikey lingered a second after Raph left the kitchen. He had to swallow everything that had happened. Only _he _of the other brothers knew what was wrong with Raph -- well, at least part of it -- and it felt good to know that he had a secret to keep now. No one had ever trusted him with secrets. Everyone thought that Mikey was too childish or too forgetful to be trustworthy. But now Mikey could prove to Raph AND himself that he could be something to someone and keep his promise.

He got up and walked out to the living area to see what Donny was hollering about. He stood among Splinter, Raph and Leo, trying to not look at Raph so he would not make it obvious that he and Raph had talked. He felt that would be the best thing to do for Raph so that he wouldn't be embarrassed. If only he knew that Raph was looking at him...

"Everyone, I have a surprise for you," Donny began, clearing his throat and sounding real important-like. "Every wonder if there were any other ones like us who weren't exactly human but not exactly beast?"  
  
Raph's head shot up in sudden and earnest interest.

"Well, meet our new roommate for the time being!" Donny turned to the opening of their lair and said to the air, "Okay, you can come in. Meet my family."

Out of the shadows stepped a figure, catching the breath of the entire group. She smiled, saying, "Hi. My name's Brandy."


	5. Meeting Brandy

_Yay! An update! For some reason I haven't been as speedy as usual. Yah. So, anyway, read on and enjoy. WARNING: There will be blossoming love hints and MAYBE a love triangle here. ^_~ I had promised a Donny romance, but since I write this with no plot in mind and just write as I think, it turns out there will be some Raph love too. But where will the other girl come from? YOU'LL SEE! **AND**, I read up on the turtles' weapons, and to show off my newfound knowledge, put a part in here where they give a little history lesson about their weapons, so forgive me if it bores you. I just thought it'd be cool, because I certainly didn't know where the _sai _came from!! ^_^_

Brandy stood among the four turtles and rat, smiling politely as she was introduced to Donny's family; although to her it was a strange family. She noted that the turtles couldn't help but stare. Brandy glanced sideways towards Donny, who just watched in amusement as his brothers soaked in the company of her, playing absent-mindedly with his bo.

Brandy was unsure about being in a lair full of young, _strong _male creatures and a crippled old rat, but seeing that she had nowhere to go, she stood where she was and allowed herself to adapt to her new home for now. She had business to do, and she would definitely need a place to sleep... 

Donny, however, was observing his brothers and trying to read their faces for a reaction. He noted that Mikey's eyes seemed wide and sparkling with curiosity and interest, seeming happy that there was a new face around. The four brothers got pretty bored of each other from being the only company they had, after all. Donny turned to Leo, who looked hesitant and uncomfortable. He almost laughed, seeing that Leo was always concerned with Splinter's opinion. It was true; Splinter had always spoken against human guests, with April and Casey as exceptions. And it was no surprise that Leo was the one who silently enforced that rule right in front of the old rat. However, he _did _say that this girl wasn't quite human, but not quite animal...just like them. 

When Donny turned to Raph, he couldn't quite read his expression. Raph seemed interested, a bit shocked, maybe...but after that, the expression was new and unreadable. It was a look that Donny had never seen Raph wear before. It was not a look of discomfort, criticism, or eagerness. It was something different. 

Little did Donny know that Raph was probably the most interested of all. He eyed this creature like she was a miracle. Had someone "up there" finally responded to his griping and complaining? Was somebody trying to send him a signal? He wondered what this girl went through, if she was happy with the fact that she wasn't normal. Although, Raph couldn't completely see why she was not quite human, but it must be true somehow. Raph shifted his weight and uncrossed his arms, one hand resting on one of his sai automatically. He had no desire to arm himself or be on his guard, but the action was pretty much "the motion of the ocean" for him; just like his coming in and slamming the door. 

"Hi!" Mikey chimed finally, breaking the awed silence. Both Donny and Brandy were relieved for it. "My name's Michelangelo!"

Leo cleared his throat, feeling a bit more comfortable when Splinter didn't say anything about the visitor. "I'm Leonardo."

Brandy smiled and nodded at the two, and then turned to Raph, expecting to hear his name as well. But when she did, he didn't respond right away. He looked down in slight embarrassment, for he wasn't quite ready to talk to her just yet. She could read his discomfort, and knew it was wrong to read his thoughts, so backed out of his mind waves and decided to start with something a little more simple and not so invading. "You must be Raphael," she said, smiling.

Raph looked up in shock, crossing his arms and shifting his weight again. He looked down, saying, "Uhh, yeah. That's me."

"Donny told me about you," Brandy finished, giving reason for her unexpected knowledge of his name. Donny looked at Brandy momentarily, but decided not to speak against her, although what she said was not true. He figured she was just reading minds or something. 

Brandy smiled again, glad that she had predicted that Donny would choose the way he did.

Splinter moved up into the crowd, leaning against his walking stick. "I am Splinter. I am the turtles' father. Please, come in and make yourself at home."

Brandy bowed in politeness, walking slowly to the couch and sitting down. Donny had observed her with interest as she did so, noting that with each new personality she came across, she seemed to mold herself in a way that was comfortable for them, as she had just done with Splinter. 'She probably felt the peaceful, Japanese aura around Splinter,' Donny reasoned. 'She would make a great international business woman.' 

Everyone sat down as well, and Brandy looked around the room. She took in each turtle, trying to read the personality of each. She had already gotten enough vibe from Donny to know what he was like. He was sweet, generous and polite, very reserved and had a lot of intelligence. Now, she took the time to set her mind on Leo.

Leo seemed very "together," very real and very focused. He seemed to know who he was and what he did. His "feel" was relaxed and fluid-like; nothing jagged or uncertain crossed his aura. She supposed that he was wise, and took much time out of the day contemplating earthly, mind-like wonders apart from Donatello, who seemed to tackle more universal, physical ideas. 

Brandy now understood why Donny had said she'd like Mikey. His personality felt warm, bubbly, and innocent, much like a child. He seemed very content, hardly one to think much about problems or wonders to just enjoy life by the second. He wasn't a very complicated character, she realized, and she found it hard to resist smiling when he smiled at her. He was friendly, and she knew that she would indeed like him a lot.

Brandy almost didn't want to understand Raph at that moment, for she knew he would take much time to dissect. He felt very complicated...like a spider web. Her mind went through so many tangles when she focused on him, the spider of him seeming well-hidden. She felt anger around him, confusion, passion, dreams...she wondered who it was that sang his dreams. They must be horribly busy with him.

Brandy stopped reading Raph's aura, for her head was spinning in pain. She shook it away, straightening in her seat and looking around. As she did, she noticed the diverse weapons each turtle carried. Mikey carried a strange weapon with two sticks attached by one string. Leo had two swords across his shell, Donny a long stick, and Raph a pair of three-toothed hand-held devices. She took this opportunity to make a conversationalist of herself. After all...she needed to seem interesting in order for them to feel good about her staying, right?

"Please, tell me about your weapons," Brandy requested, looking curiously at them. Each of the turtles looked at each other, unsure of what to say. Splinter looked at them as well, almost irritated with them. He cleared his raspy throat and stood up.

"If it is easier, I can give you a 'boost' in your explanations, my sons," Splinter began. "Why not give the name of your weapons and then each of their origins, like I had taught you?"

A hardly audible groan came from the four turtles, for although they each treasured their weapons, they never liked reciting the origins of them. It was like school, and no one likes school.

Donny stood up to go first, secretly competing against Leo, who sat back down when Donny got up first. Leo would of course be the one to jump at the memorization opportunity, being the "perfect student."

"Well, all of our weapons are of Japanese origin," Donny began, making it easier for the other three to remember their weapon's history. "Mine is called the _bo,_ or more literally, _rokushaku bo, _meaning 'six foot staff.' It's also called _kon _in Okinawa. Uhh...well, the origin of it is not completely decided, but one popular theory is that the _bo_ originated from the _tenbin,_ which was a stick held across the shoulders for carrying buckets of food, water and other items. It's use is mainly disarmingand defense rather than wounding. When I was first learning it, I learned the anatomy of it, which made it easier to learn attacks and blocks. The ends are called _kontei, _and the middle is _chukon bu._ Yeah...that's about it for my good ol' stick." Donny say down, a little hot in the cheeks form the butterflies of public speaking.

Leo went next, clearing his throat and pulling out his _katana _swords. "My weapon is the _katana, _one of many types of ancient _samurai _swords. Its history dates back very far back to the introduction of swords, which I won't go into now. However, the way you see me wear these is in a pair, and this style is called_ daisho. _This style became fashionable during the Muromachi period in the late 1300's. The _katana _literally means 'long sword,' while its opposing 'short companion sword' is the _wakizashi. _This weapon, unlike Donny's, is meant for killing and defense. That's about all I can remember for my weapons, but if you want to learn more about them, you can ask me later into the night when I'm meditating or something...I may remember more then." Leo sat down and said nothing more, returning his swords back in their place.

Mikey stood up uncertainly, knowing Raph liked to go last. He didn't really remember what he was taught about his weapon, but decided to try anyway. "Umm...yeah, my weapon is the _nunchaku. _I think it means 'frail--'"

"Flail, Mikey," Leo whispered.

"Yeah, yeah, 'flail.' So...uh... it is believed to have come from an agricultural tool that was used for pulverizing grain in ancient Japan. Uhh..." Mikey couldn't remember the opposing ideas of its origin, and tried to think of another bit of information that would fill in that gap so Splinter wouldn't be mad at him for forgetting. He remembered Donny reciting the anatomy of his weapon, and decided to do that. "Uhh...the anatomy of my weapon goes as follows: the rope is called _himo, _the top part at the rope is _konto, _the hole wear the rope goes is _ana, _the upper area of the handles are the _jukon bu, _the middle is the _chikon bu, _and the bottom is the _kontei, _just like Donny's. There. I'm done."

Raph looked at his sai, unsure how he should word his weapon's history. He stood up, hardly nervous, and held the weapon at eye-view. "This is called a _sai. _The exact origin of the _sai, _or 'truncheon,' is not clear," he began, eying the weapon admiringly. "This is due to the fact that _sai_ techniques were practiced and developed in secrecy. No one knew about them for years after they had come into being. The best guess is that it was once a short sword carried by some guys called dignitaries in ancient times." Raph knew he was mostly wording Splinter, and he didn't sound like himself. But hell...it made him sound smart. "Another theory is that this weapon was based on a tool that was used for making holes in the ground for planting rice. I personally like the first theory better. Yeah...that's about it. I don't feel like naming its body parts."

Splinter nodded in approval, although not completely satisfied. He'd have to train them harder in their Japanese history.

Brandy looked at each weapon in awe. She liked all of them, but felt that she couldn't bring herself to touch any of them. "Wow," Brandy sighed. "How did you all choose your weapons?"

"We just picked which ones we were comfortable with," Leo answered. "I dunno. It's more like the weapons chose us."

"I'll have to see you guys practice some time."

"Most definitely."

"You must be tired, Brandy," Splinter said. "Donatello. Please show Brandy a place where she can sleep."

Donny stood up, gesturing for Brandy to do the same. She followed him down the hall and to a far subway car, where they had a room set up that was mainly used when April was down there. It was their guest room, and since April hadn't used it for so long, Donny decided it was the best for now.

"So what did you think of my brothers?" Donny asked.

"Leo seems nice and relaxing, but a bit strict," Brandy answered.

"Yeah, he's like that. He was silently declared the 'unofficial leader' of us four."

"And you were right about Mikey. He seems really sweet. Like candy." 

Donny laughed when she said that. Mikey reminded him more of popcorn.

"Raph I'm not sure about though. He seems really dangerous."

"Nah, he's not dangerous. Well...he _is, _but not to us or to friends. He's just a cranky guy. He has too much on his mind is all. Just stay away from him and he'll stay away from you. Or, if you MUST talk to him, never ask him what's wrong, because to him, acting like something's wrong means nothing's wrong, and if something was wrong no one would know because he never truly acts like something's wrong because supposedly nothing's ever wrong. Do you understand?"

"Nope. You lost me at the first 'wrong.'"

"Oh well. Not important."

Brandy laughed, and followed Donny into a cozy little room with a large mattress on the floor with thick blankets, and some simple furniture. She assumed it got cold down here in the middle of the night. 

"Hey Brandy?"

"Mm hmm?"

"Can I see your horns again?" He felt like a child asking, but he was too curious to pass the opportunity by. The first step in his scientific studies was direct observation. 

"Sure," Brandy giggled. She liked the attention, really. She pulled off her hat and set it down on the bed, revealing her ivory horns. Donny held them in his hands, feeling the ridges and sharp tip with his curious, exploring fingers. 

"Whoa," he breathed. "You'd be worth an elephant, huh?" When Brandy didn't respond, he kept observing her horns, feeling them up and down. If it were any other animal with horns, it wouldn't seem as fascinating, but since this was a human girl in appearance, it was entrancing. When he realized just how forward he was being, he withdrew his hands reluctantly but quickly, blushing. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have--"

"It's okay," Brandy assured him. "You're just amazed is all. Remember? I was pretty fascinated with you, too." Donny smiled in relief. "Besides, if I were to take it offensively, you wouldn't be so lucky as to be standing right now."

Donny looked at her in amusement, raising his eyebrows and chuckling, crossing his arms and shifting his weight much like Raph liked to do. "Well, well...are we dealing with a little firecracker?"

"That's about right."

Both laughed, and for a moment, were silent. Donny tackled the inner question as to whether he should ask about her horns or not, but seeing that he was too curious of a turtle, didn't stay questioning for long, but rather _questioned._

"If you wouldn't mind, why do you have horns?" 

Brandy sat down on the bed and smiled affectionately. Donny was a curious turtle, and she liked that about him. Always asking. Asking for permission, asking for explanation, asking for forgiveness...

"Well, I don't know," Brandy began. "Seeing that I'm a sprite, I should tell you the birth of sprites first. We are not born the same humans are. We're kind of made in the air. Where I come from, there's no such thing as parents. When a sprite dies, another one is made. Now, as to why I ended up with horns, I'm not completely sure. Most sprites are born with wings or are half creatures, like horses, fish, or lions. I'm not half of anything. I'm mostly human, and like, a quarter animal I guess. But I'm considered one of the most powerful types of sprite there is. I'm just not sure."

Donny listened, pulled back into the unbelievable magic of her story, where he again doubted it with science. Made in the air? 

"Well, thank you," Donny said quickly, feeling the need to go to his computer and save the lost files so he could add to them with his new knowledge and questions. "But I should get going. Have a good sleep."  
  
"Good night," Brandy said. As Donny left, she threw her hat on the little night stand by her bed and snuggled into the pillow, trying her best to do what humans did...sleep. She was never one to sleep, seeing that she made dreams for the sleepers. 

Hours into the night, Brandy was quite bored of trying to sleep. She didn't understand how humans could do it. All she did was lay there with her eyes closed. Nothing different from when her eyes were open. She stood up, grabbed her hat and left the room to go find the kitchen and get herself some water. 

As she passed into the living area, she saw Raph watching TV. She immediately hesitated, unsure of how she should go about walking to the kitchen. Donny had explained to her that they studied the art of ninja, and how their senses were multiplied. Raph would surely hear her if she walked passed him. Remembering what Donny said about leaving him alone, she was thinking of turning back when the TV shut off. She panicked.

Raph stood up, stretching his arms. They were rippling with well-defined muscles, moving under his skin as his arm moved. He headed towards a back room, and Brandy followed, unsure of her decision, but curious nonetheless.

It was the dojo room that Raph had gone into. He had started practicing with his weapons...Brandy pondered as to their name...sai? And she was in awe at his movements. Quick, sharp, forceful, swift...a deadly dance. She wondered how he had the energy to move so fast. 

When Brandy was stepping into the room, she tripped over the step and gasped, falling to her knees. Raph started, shifting to a crouched, prepared position and with his sai out and ready. When he saw Brandy, he returned them to his belt and strutted to her.

"Hey. What are you doing up so late, eh?"  
  
Brandy finally noticed how different he sounded from his brothers. She remembered what this was called...accents. His "accent" was thick, rough and mysterious. She was bewildered by it, and looked up shyly. 

"I'm sorry," Brandy stammered. "I just noticed you and thought I'd see what you were doing."  
  
Raph smirked. "Ah, so you were spying on me."

"No, no, I wasn't, I...I was just--"

Raph laughed at her panicked voice. "Hey, chill out. I was joking."  
  
"Oh."

He held a hand out, and she held on to it timidly. He pulled her up with a tad too much force, which he didn't notice until she flew into him. "Whoops. Sorry 'bout that."

"No biggy."

'Huh...she sounds like Mikey,' he thought. "So, eh...not much of a self-introduction back there, huh?" 

"What?" Her eyes looked curious, and she cocked her head to the side. She reminded Raph of a kitten somehow. 

"Your intro. You didn't tell us much about yourself." 

"You seemed too shocked to be able to take much more shocking news, I figured." 

Raph's heart rate quickened. He felt that unexplainable energy when a topic was crossed that you know of or want to know of. He looked at her, asking, "What's so shocking about you?"  
  
Brandy looked up and sideways for a moment, thinking about how to answer him, then said, "My birth, my life...just...me." 

"If you don't mind me askin'," Raph began slowly, crossing his arms again. Brandy noticed how his crossed arms accented the muscles there as well as in his chest. Brandy figured he must be the strongest. Raph cleared his throat, unsure how politeness was used in this type of situation. "What is it about you that doesn't make you human?" 

Brandy giggled again. She couldn't help but glow in the attention, and willingly removed her Greek Fisherman's hat, exposing her horns again. 

Raph's eyes widened a little, just staring at her for a moment. He stopped staring and said, "Wow. I guess that explains it." 

"You can touch them if you want," Brandy offered. "Donny can't keep his hands off them." 

"What can ya do? He's a scientist." 

"Well, either way, if you wanted to, you could. Donny let me touch him and observe him when I met him. You guys are pretty cool. Is it any different for you other three?" 

Raph scratched the top of his head and looked at her in confusion. "Y'mean in texture?"  
  
"Yah." 

"Nah, not really," Raph started, twirling a sai and walking sideways. He couldn't help but notice the disturbing thoughts that crossed his mind at all of the "touching" words that weaved through this conversation. To push them out of his head, he continued talking. "Unless you wanna find out yourself. We each have different scars, and I guess it depends on muscle mass. I'm probably hard as a rock compared to someone like Mikey." 

"Donny's pretty tough, too." 

"Yeah, I guess." Raph was feeling a bit irritated now with that feel of competition. He had always valued the fact that he was the strongest of the turtles, and to hear that fact being challenged didn't appeal to him. That or he was just tired. He held his tongue, knowing that he'd scare her away if he snapped. Besides, he had lots of questions to ask. 

"Maybe I'll check you out another time." 

"Yeah. Maybe." 

Brandy turned to leave, and Raph watched her back as she approached the dojo exit. His heartbeats pounded in fury, reminding him not so gently that he wanted so badly to ask her those questions...those inquiries that slammed into his sanity. He hesitated a second, then, feeling awkward at the sound of his own voice, called out, "Hey Brandy." 

"Mm hmm?" 

"Can I ask you something?" 

"Yeah?"

Raph hesitated. 'It's too soon, it's too soon...she just came in! You're gonna look like a fucking idiot!' Raph held it back, like he was so used to doing. Holding it back.

"Nevermind. Get some sleep, will ya?"

Brandy smiled and left. Raph sat down on an old truck tire Donny had brought in as a chair. His head was spinning with curiosity, and he knew that if he didn't find answers to questions soon, he'd loose it.

'Why does it have to be so hard?'


	6. Donny Dreamer

_Okay, here is my chapter 6. I haven't been working as fast on these because I'm in my school's choir and have been preparing for Valograms (singing telegrams) for a while. Today is Valentine's Day and I might as well work on this. ^_________^ Oh, and thanks to all who bother to read this stuff. It's not as broken in as the more talented NT fanfiction writers, but hey, I try. ^_^_

_REMINDER: No lawyers. ^_^ Thanx muches._

Brandy sat up when morning came around, having given up on the idea of sleeping a long time ago. No one could really tell it was morning down in the sewer lair, for no light came through. The only way Brandy knew it was morning was by the little clock. It read 7:42. 

She stood up, a bit dizzy from standing up so fast. Eventually she shook it off, grabbed her hat, and stumbled her way out into the living area. Her hair was tossed in different ways, and her long purple pajama shirt slipped down over one of her creamy fair shoulders. Donny had let her borrow it when she came knocking on his door in the middle of the night asking for something to sleep in. She had noticed that many humans changed their clothes before they slept, and she wanted to try this theory out. Donny didn't seem too happy, however, being woken up to be forced to find some decent attire for her.

When she reached the kitchen, Mikey was there reading the paper. No doubt he was reading the comics section. He had the paper flat down on the table, leaning over it with evident interest, smirking every so-often and letting out a chuckle. His orange mask's ends hung over his shoulders and spiraled onto the paper, and Brandy began to wonder if the turtles ever took their masks off. She stepped in, leaning against the wall. "Heya."

Mikey looked up, his eyes sparkling to life at her presence. He picked up his hot cocoa, lifting it up as a salute. "Hey babe! Want somethin' sweet to wake ya up?" He slurped some of his cocoa and put it down, a big, goofy, whipped-creamed grin spreading across his terrapin face.

"I don't know what that is," Brandy said, nodding towards Mikey's mug. She had no idea what humans did besides sleep, let alone what they drank. 

Mikey laughed, wiping the whipped cream away, and with a bashful grin but bold voice, he replied, "I wasn't talkin' 'bout the cocoa, beautiful dudette. But if ya wanna try some of _this_ ya can!" 

Brandy laughed at the joke. So he _wasn't _all innocent and childish. He _was _an 18-year-old turtle, after all. "Good morning to you too, Mikey." 

"Nothing like cheesy flattery to start your morning," Donny muttered, stepping in with a mug of his own. He crossed the kitchen and came to a counter, setting his mug down to turn on the toaster. "Hey Brandy. You sleep okay?" 

Brandy was thinking about telling him the problem with her and sleeping, but decided not to. That would be one more thing Donny would seem intrigued by. She didn't feel like having the attention again, for it was morning, and it was a new day. She had lots to think about, and lots that she needed to start doing. 

"Yes, fine. Thank you." She looked at Donny and Mikey's mugs, curious as to what the swirling mess of white and liquid brown would taste like. "Is it good?" 

"Is what good?" Donny asked. 

"That stuff. In your cup." She crossed her arms and pointed at it with her chin. Donny looked down at the cup, and smiled. 

"Yeah, it's pretty good. Very sweet. I think you'd like it. Wanna try?" 

"Yeah." 

She sounded to Donny like a child suppressing excitement, and looked it too. Her hazel blue eyes sparkled. Her form molded into a shy, hesitant position. Her shoulders bunched up, her arms behind her back, and her legs crossed, she looked Donny in the eye. 'Wow, she sure has a way with eye-contact,' Donny noticed briefly. 

"Is it okay?" 

Donny shook his head out of his momentary trance. "Huh?"  
  
"Is it okay? To try some?" 

Donny blinked a few times, trying to process her meaning. Then, he shook his head harder, laughed a bit at himself, and waved his hand in dismissal. "Oh yeah, it's totally fine. Don't worry about it. I can always make more. We've got tons of this stuff stashed away. Just about as much as we have pizza. Here, here...drink all you want!" Donny began to hand it to her, but then drew it back. "But first, let me get some more whipped cream." 

As Donny scrambled through the kitchen to find their old, beat up refrigerator, Brandy realized the state of her shirt, or more literally, _Donny's _shirt. By the time she realized it, however, Donny was already standing in front of her again, and seemed to have noticed it too. Brandy blushed a deep shade of red. 

'She looks kinda cute all embarrassed,' Donny thought to himself with a smile. He pretended it wasn't a big deal, and he stepped closer to fix it. He slipped the shirt up to cover her shoulder, and as his fingers brushed her silky skin, he noticed a slight jerk from her. He smiled with friendliness. "There. That's better. Now, here ya go. If ya don't like it, just give it to Mikey. He'll take care of it." 

Brandy looked at Mikey, who had looked up at the sound of his name, and smiled that adorable smile again. Brandy's embarrassment died, and she laughed her cotton candy laugh. She took Donny's mug with eagerness, unable to resist the tempting smell of it. Donny and Mikey watched intently, as if their cocoa was in a contest. Brandy brought it to her lips, Donny and Mikey leaning closer. She felt the cold white fluff on her lips, and she licked it. The sugar of it was heavenly. She slurped up the whipped cream, not being able to control the happy smile that occupied her angelic face. When she reached the liquid brown substance, she hesitated, for she noticed the steam coming up from it. "It's hot," she said, sounding like a little child. 

"Oh, don't worry, it's not too hot. It's warm, really. I made it about twenty minutes ago, so it shouldn't be too bad." Donny straightened up as he spoke, and when Brandy nodded in unsure satisfaction, leaned closer again. 

Brandy put her mouth the edge of the mug, tilted it...Donny and Mikey were twitching with curiosity now...the brown liquid slid closer to her lips as she tilted the bottom of the mug farther up...Mikey stood up now from his chair, knocking over his newspaper...she felt the warmth of it, and hesitantly allowed it pass her lips and slide into her throat... 

Donny and Mikey waited. 

Brandy swallowed, and her eyes grew big. Donny and Mikey held their breath. But just as fast, they started when she jumped, a squeal of pure delight echoing through the lair. Donny clutched his chest and Mikey tripped over his chair, falling on his shell. 

"This is so good! Wow, this is amazing--" she stopped talking to drink more, and more and more and more...till finally, she finished, and set the mug down. "May I please have more?" 

Donny looked at Mikey, who looked back. They started laughing, and Donny gestured for Mikey to refill Brandy's mug. Mikey stood up with Donny's help, for shells are hard to maneuver when flat on the ground, and took Brandy's mug to fill it up again. "No prob, babe!" 

When Brandy got another mug of cocoa, she entered heaven again, going through each stage of ecstasy. First, the cool, slick sweetness tickling her lips, fluffy and white as a cotton pillow. Then, as the cool, white, fluffy wetness died away, the steam moistened her face, hot and blissful. Last, the warm entrance of a luscious delight, making her mind spin with pleasure. More and more she drank, finally reaching the end of her paradise, and when the last drop was gone, she let out a loud, heavy, happy sigh of satisfaction. 

Brandy continued to ask for refills, and the two turtles gladly did so. As she drank happily, Leo walked in, his face flushed with color. Donny and Mikey knew he had been meditating and practicing his katas all morning, so his face was glowing with health. Mikey tried not to laugh when he came across the thought of a facial.

"What have you created, guys?" Leo asked, laughing. "You made a cocoa monster!"

"Well, at least she found something she likes, she had no clue what it was at first," Mikey stated, picking up his fallen newspaper.

Leo's face suddenly changed, looking interested. "Really? Are you not from Earth, then?"  
  
The question was quite forward and unexpected, and the other two turtles hesitated. Would she take it the wrong way?

"You might say that," Brandy answered, sipping more hot cocoa. 

"Hmm. Then where are you from?"

Before she could answer, Raph stumbled in, cursing and mumbling under his breath. He wasn't much of a morning person. "Ugh...my head," he grumbled.

"Good morning, Raphael," Brandy greeted, smiling her sweet smile. Raph looked up, seeing Brandy, and nodded politely. When he walked over to the refrigerator without really speaking, Brandy cocked her head to the side in wonder. 'Wonder why he is so hesitant of me.'

"Leo, did you drink the last of the milk?" Raph growled.

"Why do you always assume it's me who eats or drinks that last of everything, Raph?"

"Because you usually do."

"I don not!" 

"Do too!"

Donny and Mikey gave each other knowing looks, each silently agreeing to step out of the kitchen and take Brandy with them. Leo and Raph would be at this for a while at the rate they had jumped into the fight.

Brandy excused herself from the two turtles she had followed out of the kitchen, and stepped into her little room. She sat down on the bed, frowning. 'It's time to take off this smile,' she thought with a sigh. 'Time to start thinking, Brandy.'

As Brandy's mind entered a state of seriousness and contemplation, she heard a knock on her door. She felt slightly irritated, which was an unusual emotion for her. Where she came from, there was always peace, so there were never moments when she or anyone else would become angry. But so long as Brandy was here, she figured she might as well feel and _taste _new things.

"Come in." Brandy looked up to see Donny's face. "Hi, Donatello. Is there something wrong?"  
  
"No, no," Donny assured, coming in with an uncertain face. He had had something on his mind for a while, and needed to settle it. "Can I ask you a question, Brandy?"

"Of course."

"Could you please explain to me why you're here?" Donny paused to think, then added, "On Earth, I mean."

"Oh I've always been on Earth...well, not literally _on _it, more like in the air. There's a pocket between the physical Earth and the boundaries of the biosphere. We sprites are sort of invisible in that pocket, but we are very much there. Well, anyway, as far as what I'm doing here....umm..." 

Brandy paused, not sure whether she should continue or not. Donny listened intently, waiting for her to go on. When she didn't, he looked at her with curiosity. "What is it?"

"My intentions here are very serious, and I'm not sure who I should tell and who I shouldn't."

"Well, Brandy, as you may have already guessed, I'm a scientist...kind of. I'm the scientist of the group, anyway, and if you needed any information you could always come to me."

Brandy considered Donny's offer, an hesitated a moment longer before deciding that confiding in someone may ease the unfamiliar feeling of stress. "Well," Brandy started, fiddling with a strand of her hair. "I was sent here because there's a hole in the our world's pocket, as I've explained about. Our world is seeping out of it, and many sprites are dying because of the exposure. We are afraid that some humans may discover us with their scientific instruments, like detect us...then people will no longer have dreams, and they won't know that that reason alone will be the cause of their destruction. People survive because they have dreams...I'm not quite sure why--"

"It's the brain's natural way of mentally healing physical and emotional stresses from the body's conscious state subconsciously," Donny interrupted. 

Brandy waited, processing his meaning. Then, she frowned, and said, "It's not just that, Donatello. People are inspired by dreams. They love, create, think...all on the base of dreams. Artists and writers and musicians are dreamers. People who travel the world or chase a goal are dreamers. You are a dreamer."

"Me?"

"You are inspired to learn new things and you constantly study them. At night, you dream about everything you've done and things you may want to study later, and when you wake up, you study on that without knowing your brain foretold it. You dream about being a different person, being better than you are, being something everyone else will understand. Ninety percent of all dreams are forgotten when people wake up, but we, the Dream Singers, are the only ones who can make a movie out of all that you dream."

Donny looked down at the floor, trying to make sense of all that he had heard. It was true. He was always dreaming that he could stick to his word in a situation where someone was taking advantage of him. He was always dreaming that he wasn't so easy to push and shove. He was always dreaming to make something of his scientific studies, to become known for his theories and teach the world something new. 

Donny stood up, nodding to Brandy in departure, and left to go to his computer. There were many things he needed to think about.


	7. Brandy Meets The Beast

Yeah, this will be a shorter chapter, and it is only Raph and Brandy. The purpose is to just create some friction between them, (not negative friction,) that way I can slide right into the next part of my idea. (Y'all will just have to wait and find out! HAHAHAHA!) There hasn't been much fighting or actual action in this, but it's coming. PATIENCE, YOU MONKEYS! FairDrea...thank you for you ideas for my story. I really appreciate it. ^_^ Raphael laid in his bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling of his room cloaked in darkness. Arms folded behind his head, Raph ran millions of thoughts through his troubled mind. 'Donny seems to have learned something new about the new kid,' Raph thought to himself, referring to Brandy. 'I wish I could know. But he won't let a word out. And it wouldn't do me no good askin' Brandy...I don't think she'd trust me. But that's the problem, isn't it?' Raph shifted in his bed, turning on his side and laying on his folded arm. 'I'm too scary to trust.' Raph's eyes became fiery with disdain. People just needed to learn to leave each other alone, not bother with what troubles them and just leave trust out of it. If everyone kept to themselves, no one would have any problems to deal with but their own. Raph's muscles relaxed under his skin as he tried to calm himself and think about something else besides his point of view on humanity. Raph grew tired of trying to think, and decided he'd rather try to get some shut-eye. He hadn't slept much in a while. As he turned to the little nightstand near his bed to take a sip of the water he had placed there earlier, he was irritated to learn he had drunken it all. "Dammit," Raph grumbled. "Now I gotta get up and get more. God damn." Raph sat up and turned on his light, snatching the cup and heading towards his door. 'Maybe I should clean up my language,' Raph briefly considered. After a while, he dismissed the idea. 'Nah. Having a dirty mouth only emphasizes my passionate asshole side. Heh.' Raph stepped out of his room and looked to either side, making sure no one was up. If anyone would be up, it would probably be Donatello. Donny had a habit of staying up to ungodly hours researching on random stuff. "Probably looks at porn. Lucky bastard," Raph joked to himself. He was feeling a bit better after all. Before he turned towards the kitchen, he noticed a light coming from Brandy's room. 'Wonder what she's doing up,' Raph thought. 'Kid's gotta get SOME sleep.' Raph stopped to go through what he just thought. 'Like I'm a good example.' Raph strutted over to her room in pure curiosity. Although being one to normally mind his own, he couldn't help the fact that he was fairly interested that someone was up at the same time he was. Maybe he could talk to her or something...satisfy his boredom. Raph stepped up to the door, peeking in since it was cracked. He couldn't very well see Brandy, and knocked a little. No answer. Raph shrugged, figuring if he got slapped for something he'd at least get some sort of action. He smiled to himself. 'Yeah right, Raph. You may like action, but not THAT type of action. You're no pervert, no matter how much you like to joke about it,' he thought to himself in humor. Raph took a breath in, and pushed open the door. Brandy heard the door open and she gasped, her bed shirt high over her head. She had been trying to put it on the second Raph opened it. Having no bra to call her own, she was aware of her state and screamed a muffled scream, flying down on the bed. "Raphael!?" she called out from under her shirt. "May I help you?" Raph's eyes were big as baseballs. His cheeks were redder than his mask, which was unusual for his skin color, and he turned his head downwards. "I- I'm sorry, Brandy. I knocked, but you didn't answer. Umm, I just wanted...I dunno....just wanna...damn..." Raph stuttered in such a way that made him angry at himself. Brandy wriggled under the covers, shifting inside them as she fixed her shirt. After she was done, she poked her head out from under them and looked at Raph. Her hair was tossed and wild, her horns poking out of the tangled mess. To Raph, she looked kinda cute. "I guess it's okay. As long as it was an accident."  
  
"Believe me, it was," Raph stammered. "I was just wondering why you were up so late." "Don't worry about it. I just have a hard time getting to bed early." "Likewise." Brandy smiled. "Obviously." She crawled out of her bed and sat down, patting the empty spot next to her. "Have a seat, dude." Raph looked at her curiously, sitting next to her rather stiffly. "Did you just say 'dude'?" Brandy smiled shyly. "Yeah. Isn't that what you four always say?" "Well, yeah, but--" "I thought maybe I would fit in more if I learned some of your daily vocabulary." Raph smiled to himself. 'She's so innocent,' Raph thought in amusement. His face, for a brief moment, grew dark. 'She'd never be able to handle the world of males on her own like that. Poor kid.' "So anyway," Brandy suddenly chirped, shifting to where her legs were tucked under her. She couldn't help but hear Raph's thought, and became nervous. She wondered what he knew that made him so dark, so mysterious, so angry. She wondered what he had experienced to make him so fearful, yet so defensive. She pushed these wonders aside to talk to him further. "What're ya up to?" "Staying up at late hours talkin' to a goat." Brandy laughed at the joke, and lightly punched his arm. "Well I'm staying up at late hours talking to a huge turtle." "So ya got some spunk in ya, huh?" "Yep." Brandy's face suddenly grew curious, then she smiled again. "I like the way you talk." Raph looked at her like she was slightly loony. "The way I talk? What about it?" "It sounds different from everyone else. You say words differently." "My accent?" "Yeah! That!" Raph laughed and ruffled Brandy's hair. "Yep. Well, to me, Donny and Leo and all them got an accent. I talk normal to myself, but it sounds like even YOU have an accent." "No I don't. You have an accent." "See?" "See what?" "I have an accent to you because you're not used to hearin' me talk like this. You think your way of talkin' is normal." "Huh?" "Whatever. How about this...we both have accents. We're two people from two different countries or somethin', and we just met. No one else is here but us, so we can't compare. So we both have accents and we're in awe to hear it." Brandy giggled. "Okay." She paused, and there was silence between them. "What kind is it?" "The countries?" "No. What kind of accent is it?" "Uhh...Brooklyn." "Never been there." Raph laughed a little. "Wouldn't imagine you've been anywhere, really." "I guess that's true."  
  
Raph looked down at his hands, which were still holding his empty glass. He remembered why he was up in the first place, and he suddenly said, "Hey I was gettin' up to get a drink of water. Wanna go raid the fridge and get some midnight goodies?"  
  
Brandy giggled, nodding. 'He's kinda fun when he's comfortable,' she thought. 'But I know he won't be like this tomorrow morning.' Brandy and Raph walked out of the subway car that was Brandy's room, and walked out towards the kitchen. Brandy followed close behind Raph, a little scared for the darkness of the night down in the sewers. Raph's silhouette was large and intimidating, but she felt safe behind him. "So how old did you say you were?" "I didn't say in the first place, but I suppose I'll tell you now." "Smart-ass." "Heee. Yeah, anyway, I'm sixteen." "Sixteen, eh? You don't act it at all. I'd say you were like...twelve." Raph pulled open the fridge and looked inside. "Want anything?" "Hot cocoa." "Oh I bet you do," Raph grumbled, making sure to make it sound like a joke. "But I don't think that would be found in the fridge. Do you want me to make you some?" "Yes please!" Brandy answered, her hands coming up to her mouth in little fists. The sleeves of the large purple T-shirt were way past her elbows, so when the sleeves folded back as her arms lifted, Raph noticed how skinny she looked with that monster on. "Okay. I'm gonna get a Pepsi. Want one?" "Just cocoa." Raph shut the refrigerator door, pulling out his Pepsi. As he prepared her cocoa, he asked, "Want some popcorn or somethin'?" When Brandy nodded politely, Raph continued to make her cocoa while he thought. 'I can't believe I'm so comfortable with her. C'mon, Raph. Are ya sick or somethin'?' Brandy sat at the table, awaiting her "server" to serve her. Her hazel blue eyes watched Raph the entire time, and she was tempting to dig into him and learn more about him. 'No,' she told herself. 'I'll leave that for him. If he wants to tell me, he'll tell me.' During Brandy's thinking, Raph had set the mug of cocoa in front of her with a tower of messy whipped cream. Brandy looked at it with that familiar excitement. "Sorry for the artwork," Raph said shortly. "I'm not as good as Donny is." It didn't take Raph long to realize that Brandy must've not cared in the least...the tower of whipped cream was already far from gone. "And also, I added some extra melted butter to the popcorn. Hope that doesn't bother ya." "How could it when I have never even tried it yet?" Raph smiled. He nodded, and watched her dig in with joy. 'Yeah...how can she be bothered when she doesn't know what it's like?' he thought. His face grew sad. 'What I'm like.' Raph watched Brandy in content, grateful to have at least found a simple friend. 


End file.
